


Fork

by thistreasurehunter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bellamy is numb, Break Up, Dubious Consent, F/M, I appreciate it's a little ambiguous, Smut, So I'm tagging dub-con to be safe, This was NOT written as non-con, however
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:48:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28920081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thistreasurehunter/pseuds/thistreasurehunter
Summary: [...] Clarke’s words had built a barrier between them. A wall that even the most intimate physical act could not scale.Bellamy’s voice cracked on the first words he’d spoken in reply.“I’ll never forget you,” he whispered into Clarke’s neck. [...]*********Or: Clarke ends their relationship and Bellamy struggles to process the break-up.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Fork

The words hit Bellamy like a punch to the stomach. Suddenly his chest felt full of shards of ice. His skin ached. The air felt sharp and cold in his lungs. There was a ringing in his ears.

“I’m so sorry, Bellamy.”

Bellamy swayed where he stood.

“Hey, Bell? Are you okay?”

Bellamy blinked slowly. He swallowed.

It had finally happened. The thing that Bellamy had been dreading for months – years maybe – had finally happened and he felt oddly relieved. He knew the acute pain would come later; the trauma, the regret, the interminable ‘what ifs’. But right now, there was just a numb, resigned relief. His nightmares had come true and he was still standing. And now that the very worst thing had happened, there wasn’t anything left to be scared or worried about anymore. There was something strangely comforting about that.

Fingertips on his upper arm. A soothing squeeze.

“I really am sorry, Bellamy. I just think it’s for the best. I just can’t turn down this opportunity. But I also can’t expect you to just drop everything and follow me. Your life is here. Long distance… just wouldn’t work for us. You deserve someone who’s going to be there for you. In the long run, it just won’t work: you and me.”

The fingers ran up and down his arm as though they were trying to rub logic into his dull, aching skin.

“We’re at a fork in the road. But this is just the end of the road for _us_. Not the end of the road altogether. You’re going to make someone so happy someday. And I’m sad it isn’t going to be me. But perhaps we were both just exactly what the other needed, right at the time we needed it. I owe you so much.”

The fingers tightened, drew him in. Arms encircling him. Holding him. Holding him close.

“You are so very special to me.”

Foreheads touching.

“You always will be.”

Lips brushing against wet cheeks.

“I needed you.”

Lips seeking lips.

“I need you.”

Hands fumbling at clothes.

“Just one last time.”

Skin against skin.

“The only fitting end to our relationship.”

Hand gripping. Pulse rising.

“The only way we could ever really say goodbye.”

Bellamy tried not to catalogue a list of lasts. He tried so hard. But it happened anyway.

The last time Clarke would run her hand down Bellamy’s back, the last time she would suck and bite Bellamy’s neck, the last time she would cup Bellamy’s jaw, run her hands through his hair, pant into his mouth as hands roamed and skin was revealed and desire sparked and magic danced around the edges of the room.

For Bellamy, everything was moving in slow motion, but equally, time itself was moving very quickly. _But when you’d been hoping for forever,_ he reasoned distantly, _anything less than that was always going to feel like the blink of an eye._

He felt disconnected. Disembodied. Removed from reality. Not present in the moment.

He could feel Clarke gently push him down, climb over him, straddle his lap, sink down onto him. But his brain felt like he was watching from a distance. As though the first time he was living the moment, he was living it as a memory. A distant, half-recollection. Watching someone not entirely recognisable as himself. Clarke already felt half a world away. She was already gone. Lost. Bellamy was inside a body he was no longer connected to. Clarke’s words had built a barrier between them. A wall that even the most intimate physical act could not scale. But as though on autopilot, Bellamy could feel his body react, respond to that familiar push and pull. And eventually, pleasure was carved from the pain between them.

Bellamy’s voice cracked on the first words he’d spoken in reply.

“I’ll never forget you,” he whispered into Clarke’s neck.

“I should hope not!” Clarke breathed into his hair. “Just because we’re breaking up, it doesn’t mean we’re gone from each other’s lives forever. We can still be friends.”

Bellamy pulled back and caught Clarke’s gaze. Stared back into those beautiful eyes. Words hung in the air between them and Bellamy tried to reach for them. Tried to find the right ones. The ones that would let Clarke know how he felt, how he would always feel. The ones that would have the depth, the weight, the resonance to open that channel back up into Bellamy’s heart. To show Clarke a different path. To steer them both away from that fork in the road.

_You were the only ray of sunshine and hope in the storm of my life._

_You showed me that there was the possibility of a life for me in a loving relationship._

_You showed me my worth._

_You calmed me down. You built me back up._

_You’re such a good person, you deserve all the good things in this world._

_It doesn’t have to be this way._

_I’d follow you through time and space if I thought you wanted me there._

“I know.” He said quietly instead. “I just mean... I’ll never forget us.”


End file.
